It's the memories that hurt the most
by Zen the leaf
Summary: The aftermath of their parents murder leaves Mako with horrifying dreams.


A/N: Inspired by this picture and this picture by ilovemytablet & pencilpaperpassion respectively.  
...I feel so emotionally drained after writing this. I'm sure fics like this have been done before and many will be done again, but... writing things such at what I just wrote hurt because it's so emotionally raw.  
Welp. I worked really hard on this one, so I hope you... like it I guess?  
- Zen

He still has nightmares.

For weeks after their murder, it happens almost every other day. He'd wake up screaming, tears streaming down his face. And then he'd realize where he was - out on the streets next to his brother. Sometimes Bolin would wake up. "It was just a dream. Don't worry about it Bo." His brother would cuddle closer to him, and Mako, he'd try his best to smile reassuringly. The times when Bolin didn't wake up, he'd bite his lower lip, and let himself weep. He'd never fall back asleep those nights.

He became terrified of closing his eyes. The memories would splatter across his mind whenever he gave them the chance. Screams. The smell of smoke. He remembers so much red and orange, and their eyes staring hollowly up at the sky, never to blink again. And then he hears _that man's_ voice "give me your money and no one gets hurt." But that man, he's wrong. Wrong wrong wrong - it all spirals into shades of fire by the end.

Sometimes it flashes, just images, like some terrifying photograph that refuses to leave him. Or it's just the sounds - recorded in his head and replayed again and again. It's the worst when the pictures move, when it becomes some twisted movie in his own head. And he cries because he can't get it to stop. It stays in his brain, and continues to run through over and over until gets up and does something, _anything, _to distract himself.

And for those weeks he hates himself so much. The power he has, it took them away. It's part of him too, and for weeks he can barely bend. He won't let himself, the flames remind him too much of back then, reminds him of that man. Only on especially cold nights does he give in, and he wants to vomit in disgust at the own flame in his hands. It's the same, it's the same damn fire that took them, and it's dancing in his palms, glowing that same orange. The only comfort he takes is that it keeps them warm, alive.

He has to be strong. For Bo, he has to. He barely survives for the longest time, with living on the street and the lack of sleep. It comes to the point where even Bolin starts to notice, no matter how much of a sound sleeper he is. "Don't worry about it Bo." He continues to insist. In response, his brother gets as close to him as possible, squeezes him as hard as his tiny little arms can. The firebender smiles wearily, as exhaustion takes over his fear of the dreams.

It's the next night he realizes Bolin doesn't really _know. _He knows that they're parents are gone, but not why, not how. For a moment he's relieved - his brother won't have to share the same unending stream of images and sounds that assault him nearly every night. Then he wonders what he'll say when he does ask, when he does wonder. That man, that firebender and him - they have the same power. And when he tells Bolin, will he look at him the same? He shivers, and hugs the earthbender a little tighter. He doesn't know. He doesn't want to know.

Bolin still asks him again and again, but Mako's Mako. He assures him again and again, smiles emptily at his sibling. _Everything is fine, don't worry, I'm just thinking_. And Bolin, he doesn't believe him. But the more Bolin asks, the more defensive Mako gets. He shuts himself in completely, and his eyes glaze over in some kind of horrible trance. It takes multiple shakes before Mako jolts back to reality , shivering and sweating. After that, Bolin doesn't dare bring it up again. By then Mako's told him about the incident, but Bolin still can't do anything but cling to his brother during the night, and try his hardest to make him laugh during the day.

Slowly, the nightmares start to subside. Maybe it's because he becomes too exhausted to dream, maybe his brain is trying to get him to move on before they kill him. But soon it only happens once a week, then every few months. They won't disappear - hardly. It's a stain in his mind he'll never forget, but he starts to live. The bags under his eyes begin to fade. Not all his smiles are forced for the sake of his brother. When Toza brings them it, he starts to accept his abilities as a blessing as well as a curse. And life goes on.

But the nights when those dreams come back, they're worse than ever.

After they rescue Bolin from the equalists, it's one of the worst ones he's had for a while. Flames consume everything and he yells for them until he's hoarse. And then it all stops, and he's back in his room, covered in sweat. "Not again" His face feels wet, and the taste of salty water tells him all he needs to know. There goes any sleep he was hoping to get. Groaning, He sits on his bed, rubbing his face. He's shaking noticeably, and the tears won't stop. He curses under his breath, rubs his face harder as if he can wipe all traces of his weeping out of existence, but it doesn't stop.

So he does what he always does, now that they live in the Probending area. He's out the door, to the gym to fight away the thoughts. Everything aches after what transpired only a couple hours ago. But to be honest, he doesn't notice. He punches his fists in the air, lifts weights, runs - does everything but bend. (It's always like that after the dreams.) He trains until the first of the sun's rays peek through the gym's window, and then collapses.

His breaths come out heavy as he murmurs to himself. _Mom. Dad. Mom. Dad._ It never stops does it? As long as he lives, it'll never go away. The firebender stares up at the ceiling and lets out a sob. Here it goes again, he thinks, and this time he gives in.

He covers his eyes with one arm and screams.  
It was never supposed to end up like this.

~

_"No matter how far we travel, the memories will follow in the baggage car"  
- August Strindberg_


End file.
